


If There's a Reason

by MayQueen517



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, Rey doesn't know how to accept gifts, at some point, but Poe and Leia will change that, directly after the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7977121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayQueen517/pseuds/MayQueen517
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He rubs a hand over Finn's foot, lightly as if he's unsure if that's allowed. His eyes are shadowed heavily and she remembers the desperate way he had hugged her when they had completed the map to Skywalker. In many ways, it is like a fairy tale she never heard, Rey thinks, watching Dameron run a hand through his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If There's a Reason

**Author's Note:**

> I've never, ever written Star Wars fic before! 
> 
> This was started months ago and I've only just now gotten the courage to finish it and post it. This fic would not be where it is without xandri and their lovely encouragement. Thank you!
> 
> The title is from 'Wait For It' from Hamilton because I listened to it almost exclusively while writing this.

In the days before Rey leaves for Ach-To, General Organa gives her a bundle of clothing. They are soft with many washings and faded with wear, but they have sturdy patches and Rey is warmed by them as she hugs them to her chest. She has half-memories of the protocol to greet and thank someone, eroded by the desert sands of Jakku. Still, she bows her head in thanks, quietly murmuring it.

The General sighs softly, the sound almost lost in the hum of a Resistance base around them that Rey can just barely sense now. (Later, Rey will identify the General's sigh as 'maternal' without remembering her own mother, but knowing the sound for what it is.)

"He would have liked it if I gave this to you," the General says, pursing her lips as she hands a bundle of leather over. The leather needs conditioning, Rey notes idly, the dry texture catching on her hands and showing careful stitching as she unfolds the long strap. It is a satchel, not unlike the bag she once slung across her own body. She looks up to the General, seeing the gleam of memory on her face and cold realization slides through her, like the snow falling around her at Starkiller.

"General, I can't-" 

"You can," the General says firmly. Her face tightens before she licks her lips, face gentling as she meets Rey's eyes easily. The years are displayed on her face and Rey can see the crinkle of laugh lines at her eyes and that, more than anything, is a comfort. They are the same laugh lines she sees of so many people in the Resistance. 

"When you see him," she says, "tell him that it's been far too long," the General says briskly, an expression of fondness that Rey can barely see before she sweeps it away. 

===

Rey sits with Finn as she wipes a damp cloth over the worn leather. It needs more than a wipe-down, but for the moment, she absorbs the quiet sense of waiting in Finn's room. His breathing is slower than someone sleeping and the med-droids constantly check on them. 

She scrubs a worn brush over the surface of the leather gently, buffing along the seaming before she dips the brush into the corners of the bag. Rey listens to the beeping of the droids before she feels to gentle nudge of BB-8 against her leg.

"Hello to you too," she murmurs, taking the spare square of cloth that had been ripped from her own wraps in the days since Starkiller. She swipes it over the leather, buffing at it as best as she can, listening to the beeping conversation.

The beeping is a nice counterpoint to the soft breathing that fills the room and the other med-droids checking on Finn. In her lap, the leather is a comforting weight, warming to the heat of her body. She rubs her fingers methodically over the stitching, feeling the bumps against her skin, leaning back in her chair.

Rey dozes carefully, feeling the weight of BB-8 pressed against her leg as the droid beeps at her. She doesn't notice the other presence in the room until she blinks open tired eyes. 

Poe Dameron is exactly as all the stories say he is, she thinks to herself as BB-8 rolls over to him, blip-whirring in a question that she doesn't quite catch.

He looks over to her, nodding in a quiet way that allows her to sit up straighter, folding the bag closer to herself as she clears her throat.

"The med-droids say there's no change. No news is good news, or so the General tells me," she says. His mouth quirks up into an easy smile.

"My mother used to tell me that," he says as BB-8 rolls between them, circling her chair as Rey watches the droid. 

"BB-8 likes you," Dameron says, a fond smile shot towards the pleased beeps that emit forth at that. Rey huffs out a soft, fond noise, rubbing the side of her hand against the spherical casing. 

"Well, that's a relief," she says as Dameron smiles at that. He rubs a hand over Finn's foot, lightly as if he's unsure if that's allowed. His eyes are shadowed heavily and she remembers the desperate way he had hugged her when they had completed the map to Skywalker. In many ways, it is like a fairy tale she never heard, Rey thinks, watching Dameron run a hand through his hair. 

He leans back in his chair, propping a foot up on the edge of Finn's bed as he motions to her lap. She thinks about telling him to put his foot down but she holds her tongue as he speaks.

"That leather needs more than a wipe."

"I know that," she says, tone sharper than she means it as she clears her throat, looking down at the leather in her lap. She can see the repairs in the lining; uneven stitches that are functional without a care for looks. She thinks of Han gruffly maneuvering around the Falcon, Chewie nearby. Rey spares a thought for the Wookie and wonders if she should check on him.

"I have a kit for leather cleaning," Dameron says, interrupting her thoughts. She blinks at him, "I'll bring it to you," he says as she nods mutely. 

They fall into an easy silence, listening to the whirring of BB-8 as the droid rolls between them. She drops her rag and takes it back absently as she leans back into her chair, dozing once again.

===

True to his word, Dameron finds her again. Three days since the infirmary, since an easy silence that offered more comfort than any she's ever had in her own memory. She's streaked in grease from the Falcon, listening to Chewie fuss back and forth with C3P0 with a smile. The day feels poised, as if something has yet to happen and she remembers dealing with that feeling on Jakku by finding new areas to scavenge. There's nothing here to scavenge and a part of her (the part that does not miss the oppressive heat and sand) misses having a task. 

"The General said you'd be out here," Dameron says genially. Rey blinks at him, taking in the soft smile and the shadows around his eyes that are slowly lessening. 

"We're doing some repairs on the ship," she says finally, after a moment of silence stretches for far too long. She winces as Chewie gets particularly loud as Dameron's lips twitch in amusement.

"I always wanted to take her for a spin," he says wistfully, sharing a grin as Rey relaxes a little, scrubbing her hands on the rag that sits on the panel nearby. 

"She fights back," Rey says fondly, making Dameron laugh, "like pulling teeth until you figure out what she wants."

"I can fly anything," Dameron says confidently as Rey laughs to herself, looking down at her hands. 

"Finn told me."

"He told me about Jakku," Dameron offers in response. Rey looks over to him, meeting his eyes. Dameron meets them curiously, a spark of interest shining over his face as Rey clears her throat, offering her hand to him.

"Come on up; it's pretty amazing," she says. He smiles then at her, an easy and bright smile that makes the skin of her neck flush as he takes her hand to haul himself up. His hand is dry and warm against hers, an easy pressure as he gives it a squeeze in silent thanks.

"Oh," he says suddenly, as they drop their hands, "I have that kit," he says, reaching into his back pocket, handing it over. The weight of it is heavy and she hears liquid slosh gently as she blinks at him. 

She stares at the small bag in her hand before she hears him clearing his throat awkwardly.

"If you don't need it, that's -"

"No! I mean. Yes. It's. Thank you," she says, the words bursting out of her as she feels her cheeks flushing. Dameron's eyes crinkle in a smile and she shakes her head, huffing out a laugh at herself, "I'll bring it back when I'm done."

Dameron pauses, the silence stretching between them before he hums lightly, "It's a gift, Rey," he says finally. It's the first time that he's used her name and between that and the announcement of the kit being a gift leaves her stunned briefly. Finn had mentioned Dameron's easy selflessness and the eager way he had eventually helped Finn. She knows this but now, looking at his awkward smile, she sees what made Finn trust him so easily.

"A gift?" she clarifies.

"A gift," he responds, smiling, "A bag like that needs care," he says and Rey tucks the kit into her own bag that sits nearby.

She straightens up, meeting his eyes with what she hopes is a warm smile, "Thank you, Poe," she says. His eyes brighten as his smile deepens and she finds herself sticking close as they traverse the length of the Millennium Falcon, inspecting it.

Dameron - or Poe, she thinks now, warmly - follows beside her, exclaiming over the cockpit with a beaming grin that leaves a warmth in her belly. She thinks of Finn in the infirmary and wonders if he was just as bewildered by this pilot as she is. 

===

Once clean, the leather shines. 

Rey sits by Finn late into another night, painstakingly applying the oil to leave the bag gleaming. Upon first glance, she had thought it to be a simple tanned leather. After cleaning it, however, she notices that there is indistinct tooling; it was well-loved, she thinks.

"I don't know what to do with so many gifts," she murmurs to Finn, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as she buffs at the seams of the bag. The oils in the kit leave her hands soft and smelling like the jacket that had been Poe's but now seemingly belongs to Finn. 

Finn sleeps on as she hugs the bag to her chest, "I never had gifts," she says, reaching a hand to touch his hand lightly. She doesn't slip her fingers into his limp hand in the way she wants. On Jakku, the feeling of his hand desperately grasping at hers had been startling. Now she thinks that she would give anything to feel it again.

"I guess you didn't either," she muses softy, pulling her hand back to flip the bag so she can work on the back. Rey wonders idly what life was like for Finn as a Stormtrooper with no other identity other than numbers. She's heard the story from Poe and her heart aches in an indistinct way for him. 

She hears the whirring of BB-8 as she arranges the bag over her lap to begin applying the oil. The scent of it reminds her of the spiced tea in the mess hall, the warmth of it suffusing the room as the droid rolls up to Rey. 

"Hello there," she murmurs, getting a low-toned whistle in response. She reaches down, adjusting the droid's antenna, smiling at the rush of binary announcing Poe. 

"No news?" 

"Good news," she replies in a short-hand that has become all their own over the last few days. She's spent more time with Poe and the General than she has almost with anyone else. Rey can feel the impending departure date looming closer as Chewie and she finish all the major (and minor) repairs on the Falcon. 

They sit in silence, Poe looking over a datapad, studying it and tapping out notes in a comfortable silence. The whirring of BB-8 fills the room as the droid rolls around Rey's chair, offering advice as Poe looks over, smiling. 

"How'd you learn binary?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. Poe's angled to face her, his arm propped on the medical cot that Finn sleeps on. His arm rests against Finn's leg as if he needs to ground himself to make sure they're both still there.

"Sometimes, on Jakku, I was able to barter for datachips. Depending on what I found during the day's scavenge," she says as he nods. 

"Is that where you learned to fly?"

Rey flashes a grin at him, nodding proudly. She caps the oil, gently using a cloth to buff the oil into the crevices to see the leather gleam in the dim light, "Sometimes the storms would last for days. I had little else to do then," she says. 

"On Yavin 4, our storms last for days as well. Huge rainstorms that sounded like they would bring the house down around our ears," Poe offers as Rey rubs her hands together. She can't fathom the rainstorms that last for days, the wealth of water here on D'Qar still startles her at times. It is a luxury that she doesn't know if she'll ever grow used to.

"My Dad loves the storms," he says as Rey hums softly.

"I don't have any family," she says finally, after moments of silence. BB-8 whirls around Rey's chair, bumping into her leg with a series of reassuring beeps. "Family that I know of," she corrects herself, as BB-8 whirs in approval.

"Family is what you make it, Rey."

"Your Dad tell you that?"

"The General, actually," Poe says with a smile as Rey ducks her head. They share a soft smile as Rey gently places her hand on Finn's, resting it there for a moment before she gathers the bag to herself.

"Sleep well, Poe," she says, passing a hand over BB-8's casing as Poe murmurs a goodnight to her as well as she walks out of the med-bay. 

===

The hallway outside of the General's office is quiet, this late in the afternoon. The mess hall is full and she can hear the chatter making it's way down the hallways like a broadcast that used to play over Platt's work areas. Her stomach clenches at the thought and she wonders, briefly, if anyone has begun to scavenge her old hideout yet. She wishes them luck; hoping that they find something they need like she had when she first found the shelter.

So caught up in the remembrance of dust and the storms that lasted for days, she doesn't register the sound of General Organa's protocol droid until she sees him with one of the other droids. She knows that this is R2D2, the same droid she saw in her vision upon touching Skywalker's lightsaber but beyond that (and the feeling of heat far greater than Jakku around her), she doesn't really know this R2 unit. 

A range of whirs and bleeps fill the hallway, ruder than anything even the pilots have been yelling back and forth, as Rey stutters on a shocked laugh. The protocol droid - C-3PO - quickly swats a hand against the R2's casing.

"Oh, why don't you go back into low power mode, then, " he says, huffing in irritation as they approach General Organa's door. Her laugh attracts their attention as C-3PO turns to her, gold casing gleaming in the low light. One of his arms has been replaced, she notes, wondering who had done it and if it had, in fact, been the General herself.

"Oh, hello, Mistress Rey," he says pleasantly, "Were you requiring assistance?"

"Ah. No-" she tries, throat catching as she pinches the mound of flesh at her thumb in an attempt to ground herself, clearing her throat as the door opens.

"Threepio, there you are. I need you to go find Ackbar and ask him to get a message out to any of the other outer rim planets. See what options we have when we have to move base," the General says, looking to her droid before she notices Rey. Her expression softens and she gets a wry curl to her lips.

"And just what are you doing on the floor?" she asks, warmth in her eyes that Rey still isn't sure how to name. It's the same warmth she sees in most of the people here on D'Qar, actually. Rey scrambles off of the floor, dusting her legs off quickly.

"The mess hall," Rey pauses, clearing her throat painfully, "was a bit too loud?" she asks, wincing briefly. The General nods, stepping to the side and motioning into her office.

"Well, it seems that it's a good thing I have entirely enough food to share. So long as you don't mind listening to trade agreements being discussed."

"Oh, I couldn't-"

"In, Rey," the General says firmly, though fondly. Rey blinks at her and scoots past, shoulder brushing against the General's as Artoo follows them both in while Threepio trundles down the hallway. Artoo lets out a questioning line of binary to the General, asking after her and it's a sharp contrast to how he spoke to Threepio that Rey laughs to herself. 

"He's quite polite when he feels the need," the General tells her, passing a hand over his casing gently as she and Rey sit across from each other. 

"General - "

"Leia," she interjects softly. 

"I," Rey pauses, nodding to herself, "I was wondering if you could tell me about Luke Skywalker."

General Organa - Leia - has a kind face, Rey notices for what feels like the millionth time. It strikes her all over again at how genuine everyone is on D'Qar, especially when Artoo blasts a long set of beeps and whistles on the subject of Skywalker. He's not especially polite, Rey notices as she hides a grin behind her hand. She's met plenty of droids and plenty of rude creatures - Platt for one, but never thought to meet a droid quite as blunt as an old R2 unit. 

"Artoo's right. He was, for as long as I knew him, incredibly apt at getting into trouble. Usually with Han," she says, voice catching as she powers through it. Rey feels the same sick and sinking feeling she's had since watching Han walk out onto the catwalk with Kylo Ren. She knows that it's guilt. Guilt that she couldn't have done anything. That someone is going to have to break the news to Skywalker and that person will be her. Rey's never given anyone bad news and the realization is so startling that she finds herself pinching her hand again as Leia splits the food in half. 

"He is funny and, when he was younger, pretty naive. Han and Wedge used to prank him all the time. He was from Tattooine," she says, handing Rey a cup with juice, neatly poured out of Leia's own cup. 

"Full of sand too," Rey says more than asks, remembering the time she spent learning about other planets and marveling at the similarities of her own. Jakku is nothing but desert with, at least, less of a reputation than Tattooine. Leia lets out a soft laugh as Artoo whistles in agreement.

"He's very kind. But he's been alone for quite a while," Leia says as Rey slowly beings to eat, "I imagine he's been blaming himself for everything. You should be prepared for that, Rey."

Rey looks over to Artoo's soft beeping, no less blunt than before, but full of kindness.

"Luke did everything he could and I'll always be grateful for that. But it's time for him to come home," she says, meeting Rey's eyes as Rey nods. Her throat is tight like her chest and she knows that the impending nerves of the morning's flight isn't going to let her sleep. 

Still, she settles in to listen to stories about Luke Skywalker and wonder at what she'll find on Ahch-To.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at MayQueen517 on Tumblr!


End file.
